Dark Alley
by luvpierogi
Summary: The woman Colin Shepard spots at the bar is more than meets the eye. My first serious try at Miranda/M!Shep fic ever, a one-shot for now, but I am willing to write more if you like it.


"This is a bad town for such a pretty face, Commander," a cold, though evidently amused tone rang in Shepard's ears, and momentarily he felt his heart sink. The darkness of the alley made it impossible to see her face, but judging from the voice, the woman was probably smiling. _Fucking perfect_, Colin cursed under his breath, and inwardly chided himself.

He of all people should have known better than to let his guard down like this, even – or perhaps especially so – in the presence of the opposite sex. Had he not let his curiosity get the better of him, he might have not found himself with a switchblade inches from his throat. Nor would he be pinned to a wall in what was quite possibly the most secluded part of Illium. Then again, he'd never have as much as thought of coming here if it hadn't been for that perfectly shaped figure that he'd been following. Shepard was a man after all. The numerous shots of Turian brandy Garrus had poured into him at Eternity weren't exactly helping either. As if on cue, Shepard a sudden pang of drowsiness hit his head. Not okay. Not even remotely close to okay. Forget the Sovereign; this liquid shit is humanity's greatest threat. He fought the sudden urge to throw up and made a mental note to get back at his friend the second they're both on board. If he himself was ever to make it to the Normandy, that is.

His oppressor seemed disinterested in finishing the job just now, though, for whatever reasons she had. Hell, he thought, she's probably enjoying herself. That made his blood freeze. Of all kinds of criminals out there in the galaxy, psychopaths were definitely not to be messed with.

To his own defence, she seemed rushed, excited even when she left the place. There was every chance she could use some help from a strapping commander like him. And even if that was not the case, women have been known to helplessly fall for military guys. Or did that only apply to Asari? Colin shook his head. whatever it was that brought him here, he would readily bet all the credits he won in Quasar that his crew would have a field day if they saw him, the hero of the Citadel, "the Reaper slayer" – as the media were now calling him –without as little as a bloody Carnifex by his side in this potentially life-threating situation. _Years of elite military training, all falling to shit in one moment_. As the absurdity of the whole situation hit home, he involuntarily let out a small chuckle.

For the shortest second, the tight grip on his arms loosened slightly in response. _Oh?_ He must've caught her off guard. Curious, but hardly what he'd call life-saving in the long run. From what Colin remembered, seeing her in the club, the woman's frame -though fantastically shaped –was rather petite. "Yet she managed to knock you down in a flash, moron," a small voice in his head said. True enough. And damn if she didn't know her weapons, he thought, his sight falling on the tip of the silvery blade trained on his Adam's apple. _Oh boy_. The brandy now firmly kicking in, he let his thoughts wander off. Where the hell did she store all her strength anyway? Who taught her to fight like this? _Wait a second, what if she's a mech?_ No, it can't be that. Unearthly as she looked at the bar, the woman was definitely human.

He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. She most definitely smelled like one, too..._wait._ Something _is _off about the way she smells. God. _God fucking damn it_, what a lovely scent. A mix of lavender, cherry and... Was it honey? How do you even combine all the three together? Colin bit his lower lip and growled quietly. It was out of this world, infatuating. What do you know; suddenly the prospect of dying from the hand of the wicked temptress didn't seem that bad anymore. Hell, he'd gladly serve himself up on a plate for this woman to feast on. To...to torture as she would see fit. If only she allowed him to touch her...hang on a second, _what? Fuck._ All right, this is disturbing. _Get a grip. Who is this woman, though?_ Also, Shepard? You're a dick.

The clouds of the Illium sky cleared above them and in the dim light of the moon that shone through, he finally got a chance to catch a glimpse of porcelain skin, full lips and a pair of stunningly bright azure eyes. If Colin's heart sank a bit before, it was now way below his stomach.

Figures. Bloody perfection in a woman's shape. An evil, flawless goddess of beauty on her mission to ruin men's lives. Damn her if she wasn't succeeding. His breath quickening, Colin began to slowly take in the sight before his eyes. There was one loose strand of jet black hair on the gorgeous face. To push it behind her ear and die. To brush his lips against the very tip of her nose. To cup her cheek with his hand and caress it with his thumb. To gently nibble his way down her alabaster neck, lock his fingers in the mane of her hair, to embrace her into oblivion. To give her everything she ever wanted and more. He involuntarily licked his lips.

The woman's grip on his body tightened abruptly, bringing Shepard back to reality. She tilted her head slightly to the side and slowly lifted one perfectly shaped brow. He thought he heard her let out a short hum, whether in annoyance or surprise, Shepard wasn't sure. _The hell did I do?_

Then it hit him. _Uh oh._ She too could now see his face, couldn't she? Suddenly abashed, Colin loudly cleared his throat, mustering what little was left of his usual confidence.

"Look who's talking," he finally heard himself stutter out, and he swore he saw one side of the luscious lips twitch.


End file.
